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The Problem With Cheerios

For breakfast, I had a bowl of Cheerios. For lunch, I had 2 bowls of Cheerios.

Companies, stop making all my favorite foods gluten-free!

I’m gluten intolerant, and I didn’t figure that out until I was 26. Twenty-six years of damage done to my intestines left my guts almost worthless in terms of nutrition–that is, I don’t absorb nutrients out of food very well. When I accidentally ingest the stupid little proteins, my insides protest by absorbing zero nutrients, and I slowly get malnourished to the point of fainting all the time.

Demon-protein free for four years now, and, I’m pleased to announce, I hardly ever faint. I have the whole gluten-free fad to thank for several things. First, my diagnosis. I don’t have any symptoms of gluten intolerance, so if it wasn’t such an obnoxious fad, who knows if doctors ever would have figured it out?

Second, edible food. Glutenless bread products are actually pretty dang good these days. It’s come a long way in the last four years. I pity anybody who adhered to the diet before then.

That second thing I’m thankful for, the edible food, scratch that! I’m not thankful anymore! I just found out that Cheerios, my favorite favorite favorite thing in the world, is now gluten-free. And it is good–sinfully good, perhaps fatally good. Yeah, you heard me. I’m going to die from Cheerios.

I had a few things going for me with this easiest of diseases to have in 2017.

I like to call it sadmiration because, like everybody else these days, I love a good portmanteau. I used to get this awesome mixture of pity and respect because I, ever the patient and long-suffering saint, would politely decline delicious desserts and lunch invitations in order to protect my fragile innards. I would never directly bring it up, but you better believe I put myself in situations where it just seemed to come up in conversation organically. When it did, I’d humbly bask in the glow of everybody’s sadmiration as they guiltily enjoyed their treats, apologizing to me all the while.

People don’t sadmire me anymore. There are too many good options for me now.

The second huge perk of having only disgusting, semi-edible alternatives around was it was easy to eat healthfully. Oh, I can’t have pasta? I guess it’s chicken and brown rice again with watermelon for dessert.

Now, I have to actually watch what I eat just like the rest of you non-diseased people. I have to relearn how to use willpower now, and nobody’s gong to sadmire me for it! I feel so oppressed.